Shadowfall
by Harbinger of Light
Summary: Decades have passed since the fall of Galbatorix, the Riders have been reborn. A new evil reveals itself, one which even the Riders may be powerless to stop. Allies new and old will stand united once more. Rating may change later.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello everybody, some of you may be reading this due to receiving an email notification that I posted a new story, to those I say: do not worry, I will still be working on my other stories. I have always wanted to write a fic for the Inheritance Cycle but wanted to wait until after the last book was released.**

**To those who have not read my work before: I hope you enjoy what I plan on doing here. Read, Review, but above all… Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Only saying it once: Any characters, names, places, etc from the Inheritance Cycle are property of Christopher Paolini. Any original characters are my own.**

**Chapter One**

It was a cool, late autumn day in Carvahall, the sun had started its downward arc a few hours before; it would be evening soon. The last of the harvest had been brought in the previous day, and the townspeople were now preparing for the Harvest Feast, a celebration for a bountiful year.

Roran stood atop one of the walls of the modest keep they had built after the fall of Galbatorix and Nasuada had named him the Earl of Palancar Valley. He sighed as he thought back to those days… it felt like a lifetime ago. He gazed out over the town they had rebuilt with a sense of pride. This time around Carvahall had been built with a strong wall around its perimeter, a lesson Roran's generation had learned the hard way.

He saw several of the younger men, one of which being his son Conall, helping to construct the massive oak tables that were used for celebrations, and longed to be down there lending a hand. Unfortunately he had not been able to help much these past few days; he had injured his back while helping in the fields with the harvest, an old complaint from the war acting up. He sighed yet again as he thought about how much he had aged in the last forty years.

He was still a physically powerful man, with an intimidating presence. He retained his muscular build, yet the creases of age had begun to show some time ago. His eyes were still fierce, but had gained a more distant look. And the first signs of gray had entered both his hair and his beard.

As his back twinged he placed a hand on the aching area and muttered with a chuckle, "Not what I used to be… I really am getting old."

"We're all getting old," a female voice said from behind him, and he smiled as he felt two arms wrap around him from behind.

He turned to embrace Katrina, his beloved, as he replied, "That we are. Some more gracefully than others." He was referring to how Katrina still looked ten or fifteen years younger than she was: she had fewer wrinkles than other women her age, and her red hair was only now starting to lose is vibrancy.

Katrina giggled slightly at this before replying, "Flatterer."

"So what brings you up here? I thought you were helping the others prepare the food," Roran asked after a moment.

"Arya just contacted me. They just left Ceunon and should be here in a few hours," Katrina answered with a smile.

Roran's smile broadened at this news and he exclaimed, "That's great! It's been too long since we've seen them." Arya had two-way scryed them a few days ago to inform them that Ismira, their daughter, would be visiting for the Harvest Feast and that Arya had decided to accompany her.

Roran and Katrina were immensely proud of their daughter. When she was ten years old, Arya had brought a few of the dragon eggs sent to her by Eragon to Carvahall on her way around Alagaësia. When Ismira had asked her parents if she could touch the egg with a deep, purple color, they had no way of knowing that the egg would hatch for her. Arya and Fìrnen had been just as shocked as Roran and Katrina. Roran could still hear the words Arya had said that day, _'I don't understand what it is about this family and dragons…'_

After the dragon had hatched and bonded with Ismira, Arya had sent the rest of the eggs she had with her ahead with Vanir and the other elves that had accompanied her so that she could stay in Carvahall until Ismira's dragon was large enough to make the trip to Ellesméra. After Ismira's dragon learned to speak with her mind, for it was female, she had named her Ianthe. The fact that a dragon had hatched for Ismira only made her younger brother, Conall, look up to her even more.

Now, thirty years later, Ismira is one of the most accomplished of the new Riders. As Roran had learned from Arya, Ismira, and Nasuada over the years, only a dozen of the large cache of eggs had hatched over the forty years since their recovery. Four of them had hatched for humans, three of them for Elves, two for Dwarves, and one had hatched for an Urgal. The Urgal Rider oddly enough was Nar Garzhvog's son.

Roran was snapped out of his thoughts by Katrina shaking his shoulder. "Sorry, got lost in thought there," Roran apologized.

"Don't worry about it," Katrina replied as she pulled him down for a kiss, which he happily returned. After the kiss ended Katrina said, "I'm going to go back to helping the others, you should let everyone know that there are going to be two dragons here shortly."

"Aye… that I should," Roran replied as he moved towards the stairs.

On his way down to the main part of the town he came across his son's wife, Sara, and their ten year old son Garron. Sara was a beautiful woman with long blonde air and dark green eyes. Garron strongly resembled how Roran himself had looked as a child, almost his double. The young boy saw him first and with a shout of, "Grandpa!" ran up to him.

Roran's face erupted into a huge grin as he knelt down a bit, caught his grandson under the arms, and then lifted him up over his head for a brief moment. "And how are you today Garron?" Roran asked as he set him back down.

"I'm good grandpa. I wanted to help dad but he said I wasn't old enough yet," the boy replied sadly.

"Well those tables are very heavy, I don't think you're strong enough to help yet, but soon you will be," Roran said encouragingly.

As the boy smiled again Roran turned to Sara and greeted her, "And how are you doing today?"

"I'm well today Roran, how is your back?" she asked in return.

Roran put his hand on the aching area of his back and sighed again as he replied, "It's better, still aches but better. Nothing I can do about it though, I'm getting old." He ended this with a chuckle before adding, "That reminds me: how is your grandfather?" Sara was Baldor's daughter; the grandfather Roran was referring to was Horst. Horst was the oldest resident of Carvahall, the last remaining member of the generation before Roran's.

Sara's face took on a somber smile as she replied, "He's as well as can be expected. He misses grandmother terribly, father tells me that some days he can't get him to talk. But he did overcome that cough he had."

Roran nodded as he said, "That's good. Well I should get on my way, have to let everyone know some news."

"What news grandpa?" Garron asked excitedly.

Roran grinned widely as he replied, "Your aunt Ismira and Ianthe will be here within a few hours. As well as Arya and Fìrnen."

The boy erupted in joyous shouts at this news. He thought his aunt and her dragon were the best things in the world. His mother asked, "So Queen Arya decided to visit after all?"

"That's right. She said it had been too long since she left Ellesméra for anything other than her duties as a Rider or diplomatic visits with the other rulers, and a celebration for the harvest sounded like a good excuse to get out," Roran replied cheerfully. The truth was he had come to think of Arya as part of his large, strange family. When she and Roran had seen Eragon off all those years ago it had been obvious to him that Arya was in love with his "brother", and it had pained him to see them have to part ways the way they had. Whenever he saw Arya over the years, it was clear to him that she missed Eragon even more than any of the others did. Ismira had even taken to calling her "Aunt Arya" which Arya had originally insisted she not do, but eventually embraced the affectionate title, only asking she not use it in official settings.

Sara smiled at this and said, "That's good, it has been far too long since her last visit." Ever since the war humans had become more trusting of the Elves, especially in Carvahall. The women of Carvahall all admired Arya.

"Well I need to go let everyone else know; Garron would you like to come with me?" Roran asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes!" the boy shouted happily.

Sara smiled at her son's reaction and said, "Well if you're taking him with you I'll go help prepare the food up at the keep."

"That would be good, they could use all the help they can get," Roran replied as they began to part ways.

"Bye mom!" Garron called out.

"Bye sweetie, I'll see a bit later," Sara replied.

With that Roran and Garron made their way to let the rest of the town know their visitors would be arriving soon.

* * *

><p>Two hours later the tables were set up, the barrels of mead had been brought out (with a few set aside for the dragons), the food was almost ready, and the townspeople who could play instruments had begun to set up. The center of the town had been cleared out, and Roran had had the foresight when they rebuilt the town to make the center wide enough for two large dragons to be comfortable, more if they were smaller.<p>

Roran was standing near one of the tables as the food was starting to be brought down from the keep, and the sun was just starting to dip below the horizon… when he heard it. He listened more closely to make sure he had heard it, and sure enough he heard a distinctive _thump _in the air. He then pointed east and called out, "Here they come!"

Everyone looked towards the east and sure enough, from around the nearby ridge, two large dragons came into view: one a deep forest green and shining like an emerald in the fading light; the other a dark, royal purple glittering like an amethyst. The townspeople let loose a collective cheer which could be heard for miles. Fìrnen and Ianthe, having heard the cheer, responded by letting loose streams green and purple flames into the air, causing the people to cheer even more.

The two dragons circled overhead a few times before landing in the center of town, the ground shaking as they did. Fìrnen was the size of a small barn, and Ianthe about ten feet shorter in both height and length. The townspeople started crowding around the dragons, but not too close. Roran and his family front and center.

Arya undid the straps holding her in the saddle and jumped down to the ground, landing as gracefully as ever. Ismira also jumped from her saddle, but used magic to slow her descent as she neared the ground. Faster than any normal human could move, Ismira covered the ground between her and her parents was embracing both Roran and Katrina, one arm around each.

"I missed you both so much!" Ismira exclaimed as she embraced her parents, it had been almost two years since her last visit. Roran and Katrina returned the embrace, just as enthusiastically.

She then hugged them each separately, when she hugged Roran tightly he gasped and said, "Not so tight dear, I hurt my back working in the fields the other day."

Ismira pulled back and exclaimed, "I'm sorry father!" Roran then got a clear look at his daughter: though she was now forty years old, she looked like a woman in her early twenties. She was the spitting image of her mother. She then turned to embrace her brother and his wife, after which she embraced her nephew, picked him up, and started tossing him in the air and catching him repeatedly.

While this was going on, Arya made her way over to Roran and her family. Roran noted that she too looked like she hadn't aged a day since the last time he had seen her. With a smile he said simply, "Arya."

She nodded and said in turn, "Roran."

Roran then bowed slightly and performed the hand gesture that Eragon had taught him so long ago as he said, "Atra esternì ono thelduin."

Arya smiled as she bowed and replied, "Mor'ranr lìfa unin hjarta onr."

Roran finished with the optional third line, "Un du evarìnya ono varda."

"It's good to see you Roran, and you Katrina," Arya stated once she and Roran had risen from their bows.

"It's good to see you as well Arya, it's been too long," Roran replied.

Before Arya could reply Katrina added, "That's right. It's been what… eight years since the last time we saw you Arya."

Arya smiled sheepishly at this and replied, "I apologize… I have not been able to leave Ellesméra much lately save for official matters; and you know how we Elves tend to lose track of time."

Roran chuckled at this and said, "Do not worry Arya, we understand. What matters is that you're here now." He then looked up to the two dragons and called out, "Hello Fìrnen! Hello Ianthe!"

_Greetings Stronghammer, _Fìrnen replied calmly.

_Hello to you to Roran, _Ianthe greeted cheerfully.

For several minutes there was nothing but talking before Roran bellowed out, "Start the feast!"

For the next several hours everyone ate, drank, danced, drank more, sang, and drank even more. Ismira told her family about everything she had been doing over the last two years, and informed them on how Eragon was doing. She was the only one there who saw the leader of the Riders, her uncle, on a fairly regular basis. The people of Carvahall hadn't seen him in forty years, and Arya had seen him only twice, both times to bring new Riders who were ready for the next level of their training to where he was. Both times had been brief, for she had to return to her duties back home.

Fìrnen and Ianthe consumed several barrels of mead; they had both learned from Saphira long ago that mead was a delicious drink. At one point in the evening Arya sang a song in the Ancient Language as the musicians played in tune with her enchanting voice which kept all of the townspeople captivated.

As the festivities were starting to wind down, the two dragons suddenly jumped to their feet, a bit unsteadily, and stared at a point in the sky just outside of the town's walls. A moment later both Arya and Ismira had the same reaction, but with a wondering expression on their faces.

As all the people followed the questioning gazes of the Riders and dragons Katrina asked her daughter, "What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure… it feels like magic is being used," Ismira replied hesitantly.

Arya added to this by saying, "A huge spell is being used. No normal magician has this kind of power…" As if on cue with the end of Arya's statement, a blinding flash of light and a deafening explosion came into existence at the point where everyone was watching. Everyone shielded their eyes and ears as best they could, and a few seconds later the ground shook as something massive collided with it outside the town's walls.

As the light cleared Fìrnen and Ianthe took to the air and Ianthe shouted with her mind, _It's a dragon!_

At this news Arya and Ismira ran to the wall, followed by the townspeople. Arya got to the top of the wall first, and as Roran approached he heard her exclaim, "I-It's Thorn!"

'_Thorn? What are he and Murtagh doing here?' _Roran thought to himself. As Ismira was about to use her magic to lift herself over the wall to follow Arya, Roran caught her arm and said, "Take me with you."Ismira nodded and less than ten seconds later they were on the other side of the wall, running towards the flaming crater where Thorn lay in a motionless heap, Arya was already there, kneeling over a smaller form.

As they reached Arya, Roran saw that she was kneeling over a man that it took him a moment to recognize as Murtagh. His hair was longer than the last time he had seen him, and he had grown a beard several inches long, but he, like Ismira, looked to only be in his early or mid-twenties though Roran knew that he was at least the same age as him.

The change in hair and beard were not the most noticeable thing about Murtagh at the moment though. He was covered in lacerations, one of his legs was bent at an unnatural angle, and several huge bruises were forming where they were visible, with more surely hidden by his clothing. Zar'roc was clenched tightly in his right hand, and in his left were the remains of a shield. Upon inspection they also saw that Thorn was bleeding profusely from several wounds as well.

Roran was the first to speak, "What… what could have done this to them?"

"I don't know… they're both alive, but they have almost no energy at all. That coupled with these injuries, they're lucky to be alive," Arya replied as she started to heal the worst of Murtagh's wounds while Ismira started to heal Thorn.

Murtagh suddenly inhaled sharply and his eyes shot open, panic evident in them. He grabbed Arya by the shoulder and struggled to form words. After several tries he managed to utter a single sentence, "Th- they are… They are coming." With that said he lost consciousness once again, leaving Arya, Ismira, and Roran to contemplate his cryptic warning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

All he could hear was screaming. All he could see were scenes of destruction. All he could taste was blood. All he could feel… was unbearable pain.

He opened his eyes and found himself atop a tower, overlooking a walled city. Outside the wall was a massive army assembling, preparing to attack. As he looked around he muttered to himself, "It can't be, this is… the Varden's siege of Urû'baen."

Before he could do anything else, the scene changed. He was now in Galbatorix's throne room, Nasuada chained to the wall. The demented man was there, torturing the young woman. He was using a pair of blacksmith tongs to remove her nails one by one, her screams echoed through the chamber, filling him with hate and rage.

He thought to himself, _'This isn't what happened… this isn't real.'_

Galbatorix turned to him and said, "What perfect timing. Your brother and his little elf friends will be here soon. Imagine how they'll react to find their precious Nasuada dead."

"You're going to kill her? That wasn't part of the plan!" he found himself shouting.

"The plan has changed. Besides, I'm not going to kill her… you are," Galbatorix replied with a sadistic grin.

"No I'm not. You're dead! This isn't real!" he shouted with pure hatred in his voice.

Galbatorix smiled as he uttered a name in the Ancient Language. He then simply said, "Kill her."

He tried to fight it as his hand drew Zar'roc against his will. He fought against his legs as they brought him closer, one agonizing step at a time. He was soon standing over Nasuada, the gleaming red blade held above his head. She looked him in the eyes, pleading with him not to do it. He fought even as the blade came down and plunged into her flesh. As she screamed, he screamed.

* * *

><p>"….up!" a voice called out from far away.<p>

Everything was dark. There was no light, no sound, no smell. All there was… was the taste of blood, and the unbearable pain.

"Wake up!" the voice called out again… it seemed familiar.

'_Who's calling to me?' _he thought to himself.

"Murtagh! Wake up!" the voice called a third time. This time he recognized it, and he forced himself towards consciousness.

* * *

><p>As he regained consciousness, the first thing Murtagh noticed was that he was laying on something soft. The second thing he noticed was that he hurt… everywhere, right to the very core of his body. The third thing he noticed was that there were other people around him, three to be exact.<p>

The first was an older man, who Murtagh judged to be in his late fifties or early sixties. He had broad shoulders, and a muscular build, the kind one got from doing manual labor all their life. His hair and beard were just starting to turn gray, and he had the eyes of a hardened warrior. He was sitting in a chair to his immediate left.

The second was a young woman with bright red hair. She had a lean muscular build from what he could tell. She carried a Rider's sword at her waist, the sheath a royal purple color, and an amethyst on the hilt. She stood near the door to the room.

He recognized neither the old man nor young woman. The third person, who was on his immediate right, he recognized. He weakly greeted her, "Arya."

She replied simply, "Murtagh."

He looked around for a moment before he asked, "Where am I?"

"You're in Carvahall. You and Thorn suddenly appeared out of thin air outside the town's walls. That was four days ago," Arya answered.

Murtagh smiled weakly at this before he said, "Carvahall… so my spell worked then. We got away from them." He then looked at the older man and asked, "You're Roran, aren't you? You've gotten old cousin."

"That I have. But what happened to you?" Roran asked in turn.

Murtagh suddenly panicked and practically shouted, "Is Thorn alright?"

Murtagh gasped at the pain that rocked his body and Arya stated, "Calm down. Thorn is alright, now. You were both in poor shape when we found you. You're lucky we got to you as quickly as we did, or you both would have died."

"Lucky? No, luck had nothing to do with it. When I casted the spell I was focusing on you Arya, that way we were sure to end up close to your location," Murtagh replied grimly.

"So you did use the transportation spell. On both you and Thorn no less. How far away were you when you used it?" Arya asked seriously.

Murtagh thought for a moment before answering, "I honestly don't know. We were so far north that it took us almost two months to get there from where we had been living, that being a few weeks' worth of flying from here."

At this point the young woman by the door spoke up, "You used the transportation spell to bring you and your dragon here from that far away? How are you even still alive?"

"Who exactly are you?" Murtagh asked instead of answering.

Roran was the one who answered, "You met my daughter once a long time ago Murtagh, she was only three or four at the time though."

Murtagh looked between Roran and Ismira a few times before laughing slightly and saying, "Well I'll be… another member of the family is a Rider. I really have been gone for too long. To answer your question Ismira: Thorn and I combined all of our energy to use the spell, that's the only reason I'm alive after using it."

"But even with your combined powers… it was a steep gamble Murtagh. What happened up there?" Arya asked.

Murtagh became silent at this before asking, "Did I say anything when you found me?"

Ismira answered the question, "All you said was, 'They are coming', that's it."

"Ah…" Murtagh paused before continuing, "It started a few years after Eragon killed Galbatorix, after I came back for a while. Thorn and I were up north, I had just finished building a small cabin when we felt it. It was like the world pulsed… the air, water, ground, and magic all at once. It came from further north, it almost felt like something was calling out to the entire world. We got a bad feeling from it though and chose to ignore it. Starting a few months later we noticed small bands of people heading north. They were few and far between, so we figured they were just nomads. We felt the same pulse a handful of times over the years, and we noticed that each one was stronger than the last, and that the groups heading north were proportionally larger. The last one was a few months back, and there had to be close to two thousand people in it. But what was the last straw was what was with them: Lethrblaka… and Ra'zac."

Everyone jumped slightly when Roran jumped to his feet quickly, a look of pure hate on his face. "I thought they were all dead," he stated with venom in his voice. Ismira cringed slightly at her father's tone, she had heard the story about the Ra'zac's involvement with the attack on Carvahall, and kidnapping her mother.

"No… you, Eragon, and Saphira may have killed the ones who served Galbatorix back then, but he had more of their eggs stashed away. Two were with the clergy of Dras Leona, they were killed by Eragon and Solembum… but there were still more hidden elsewhere," Murtagh replied.

"How many were there?" Arya asked solemnly.

"There were three of each that we saw. They were several miles away and didn't notice us. When we saw those damned things we decided to follow this group to see what was going on. We followed their trail for nearly two months, making sure to stay far enough behind as to not draw the attention of the Ra'zac and their parents. We went so far north… the lands we found were so barren, they looked as if they had never seen any season but winter. It even got to a point where the sun barely came over the horizon, traveled along it a while, and then sank back below it. Then we found where all those people had been going… it was a huge, open plain, with a narrow, black mountain at the exact center. The plain was full of people, and other creatures that I have never seen or heard of. There were at least a dozen Lethrblaka flying overhead… and I could feel a massive, dark presence emanating from the mountain itself. And then… before we could react…" Murtagh trailed off.

"You were attacked," Ismira concluded.

Murtagh nodded solemnly, but remained silent. Roran spoke up next, "What attacked you Murtagh?"

"Shades… two of them. They had sensed us the moment we were close, and shielded their minds from us to catch us off guard. We were careless," Murtagh replied as his eyes narrowed.

"Two Shades?" Arya asked in genuine shock.

"Yes… at first. It took almost everything we had to hold them off, but it wasn't long before the closest Lethrblaka and Ra'zac noticed the fight and got involved. We started accumulating wounds quickly, I somehow managed to decapitate one of the Shades… but as you know that won't kill it. Even as he dissipated, a third Shade, this one female, arrived to take his place. It was clear from the moment the fight started that Thorn and I couldn't win. But that's not even the end of it…" Murtagh trailed off once again. His strength was failing him, he was feeling the seductive pull of sleep catching him.

"What happened after that Murtagh? I know you want to rest, but you have to tell us what happened next," Arya pushed.

Murtagh nodded as he took a deep breath and continued, "Then… whatever is in that mountain lashed out at us with its mind. It shattered our defenses like shale. I've never felt a mind so evil, and alien. This made Galbatorix look like a mischievous child… the things I saw in its mind when I tried to fight back. I managed to see glimpses of what it's planning and I knew we had to get out of there. I somehow made my way to Thorn, grabbed onto him, he channeled his energy into me as I prepared the spell… next thing I know I'm waking up here talking to all of you."

All four were silent for several moments before Roran asked, "What is it planning?"

"It's calling out to the entire world, gathering every creature with darkness in its heart that it can in order to amass an army of unprecedented power. It wants the world… and its first target is Alagaësia. I get the feeling it showed me that so I could pass the message along," Murtagh replied with a dead tone.

"But why Alagaësia? What's so special about us?" Ismira asked.

"If I had to guess: the Riders and their dragons, probably the Elves as well. It feels that if any land could be a potential threat… it's us, and wants to crush that threat immediately," Murtagh answered, he was starting to lose consciousness again.

Arya saw this, and not wanting him to be haunted by these memories said, "Thank you for bringing this warning. Slytha." With that one word Murtagh fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

"So what now?" Ismira asked, she was terrified by what Murtagh had told them.

"We have to warn Nasuada, the Elves, the Dwarves, the Urgals… everyone," Roran stated.

"That's right," Arya confirmed. She then turned to Ismira and said, "Ismira, I want you and Ianthe to ride for Ilirea and tell Nasuada what Murtagh has discovered. Share your memory of this conversation with her if need be. Have her send word to King Orik, Nar Garzhvog, and Orrin. I will send word to Ellesméra to inform Lord Däthedr of this."

"Yes Arya-ebrithil," Ismira replied, using the proper honorific respecting her "aunt's" position as the second in command of the Riders. She then asked, "Why not ride for Ellesméra though?"

"I have to remain here and continue to treat Murtagh and Thorn's wounds. We will join you in Ilirea before the week is up. Now prepare to leave immediately," Arya replied.

Ismira nodded and went to leave the room, but Roran added, "I'm going with you to Ilirea. I'm not going to standby and just wait for something to happen." Ismira nodded and they both rushed out of the room to prepare to leave.

Arya watched them leave and she sighed sadly as she said, "I had hoped we could live in peace for at least as long as we lived in misery." She paused as she looked out the window which faced west and then continued, "I wish you were here. We could use your help with this… Eragon."


	3. Message from Harbinger

Hello everyone, as you are aware from lack of updates I have been gone for quite some time. I am very sorry for not posting anything to explain why. I don't want to go a long explanation of everything that has happened in the last few years so long story short: several upheavals in my life, including the passing of my closest friend, left me very depressed and could not bring myself to actually work on any of my writing. I am deeply sorry for the lack of an update in so long, but I hope you all can understand.

But there is good news: I am feeling the itch to write once again, so I am back. I am going to be rereading what has been written so far to re-familiarize myself with it, editing and possibly rewriting previous entries before working on new content; so you'll just have to be patient for a bit longer. I will be continuing what I have written, I promise this. So until then: I am back, the writing shall continue, I never forgot about this and am terribly sorry for being gone for so long, and I hope you all have been well. Look forward to updates in the near future!


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